ADVERTISEMENTREMOVE AD

From Rudaalis to Rat Catchers: This Book Lists Our Dying Vocations

If you read about India’s dying professions, would you regret their loss or be relieved that we’ve moved on?

Published
story-hero-img
i
Aa
Aa
Small
Aa
Medium
Aa
Large

Here’s why Nidhi Dugar Kundalia’s book The Lost Generation, Chronicling India’s Dying Professions is such a revelation.

It showcases eleven professions that are no longer relevant in the fast-changing Indian landscape.

These range from ittar walahs, rudaali singers, boatmakers to calligraphers, roadside dentists and letter writers.

Nidhi tells us the whys and whats of her amazing book:

The stories my grandparents told me of their golden times have haunted me for years now. A few years back, I decided to travel in pursuance of those stories and discovered that many professions that existed during the days of yore still exist – although on the brink of extinction. As these things fade away, it becomes necessary to document what is destined to become history. That is when I started traveling to rural areas, documenting the lives of these professionals.
ADVERTISEMENTREMOVE AD

Other Dying Professions That the Book Doesn’t Mention

Wigmakers, beedi rollers, human alarms, rat catchers, midwives, grave diggers, many street performers across the country, oral genealogists and a lot more!

There were many in the North East as well. I documented the ones whose family histories I could trace and which helped me dissect the Indian cultural fabric.

The Hardest Story to Write?

Perhaps the Rudaali story – the story of the professional mourners.

For the story, we travelled to a village in Rajasthan which is beyond the reach of the government and police. This hamlet is among the seven or eight regions still under the control of the kith and kin of the Rajputs. The presence of the state – if at all – is seen in the form of the upper caste village head, known as the Thakur.

He spoke to me with one hand on a pistol that was strung to his waist. The local who accompanied me told me that the last time a girl in this village was married was about 80 years ago. Female infanticide is rampant and still practised under wraps. We didn’t see a single girl in the village of hundreds. The few women – covered head to toe in an odhni – who were out on the street doing their daily chores, scurried into their homes when they saw our car approaching. Because I wasn’t allowed to interview the rudaali who was the Thakur’s mistress, it got difficult writing her story.

A Profession You Wish Had Survived the Onslaught of Time...

It would perhaps be the storytellers of Andhra and Telangana. I may be nostalgic about most of these professions but evolution cannot be stopped in its tracks. We may reminisce – and it is important to document them – but let’s not be regressive here. Most of these professions were meant to go, perhaps with the exception of the storytellers, the Burrakatha artists.

They have memorised a number of epics over centuries – such as the Mahabharata, Ramayana, Bobbulikatha, Yellamma – composed songs and witty scripts, adapted them to deliver social messages and government campaigns like polio, AIDS, family planning, etc.

They still use ancient musical instruments like tambura, dimki and andelu, all this while surviving on a diet of rice and rats. Discriminations on the basis of caste has kept them on the fringes of society.

They dream of singing songs and collaborating with Tollywood – but most of their children are now rag pickers or garbage cleaners, jobs that they’ve resorted to, now that Burrakatha renditions have hardly any takers.

Insights Developed While Writing This Book

I have tried hard, very hard, to ensure the reader feels the same struggle I felt while writing this book – alternating between remorse for lost times and then relief that some of these professions deserve to fade away with time.

I put down everything that mystified me, as well as humbled me on the streets of India.

India seems to have travelled a long way since Independence – but the more things appear to change, the more they are the same. The Dalits are seen as the most victimised social class in India but in reality, the Adivasis have it far worse.

It was hard to believe this India still exists. Look at the patriarchal figures in the Rudaali story! Jharkhand and many parts of Khunti are also similarly infiltrated by goons who pretend to be Naxals. I have just documented glimpses of their lives in this book.

What Next?

This year seems packed already – but next year, I intend to pick up where I left...more subculture studies. There is so much to talk about India and its lives...

ADVERTISEMENTREMOVE AD

(Preeti Singh is a freelance journalist based in New York and her features appear in a number of national and international publications.)

(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)

Speaking truth to power requires allies like you.
Become a Member
×
×